tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-172812692024-03-23T11:20:41.691-07:00Lou: The Common Ground/O pacífico“Our Similarities bring us to a common ground; Our Differences allow us to be fascinated by each other”. · Tom RobbinsLouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00812711205985912850noreply@blogger.comBlogger89125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-88057220782862870582012-05-25T08:19:00.000-07:002012-05-25T08:19:05.957-07:00Misfortunes; the UK years. Chapter 1: I think my most stable accomdation was ward 12, SJUH?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Found my blog and it WELL cheered me up. Was actually wondering if the post from eons ago in which I described the breakdown of my engagement via MS paint pictures was still here, then remembered I deleted it after recieving a midly offended phone call from my ex. ah, life<br />
<br />
Anyhow, having looked back at 'Misfortunes, the international years' (which i intend to continue, as there are many more to be added from various locations) I realised I have regretably not left the UK in a LONG time and so it is only fitting that my returning story of misfortune should have a home setting.<br />
<br />
<br />
But, actuaally, despite all the epically bad times in the last 12 months or so, I am so very fortunate.<br />
<br />
That concludes this chapter.<br />
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<br /></div>Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00812711205985912850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-83016349697942224052011-06-18T05:14:00.000-07:002012-05-25T07:57:36.372-07:00I love the people in my life who accept me for who I am.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}" style="font-size: small;">*** EMO ALERT*** </span></h6>
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}" style="font-size: small;"> </span></h6>
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}" style="font-size: small;"> </span></h6>
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}" style="font-size: small;">'To be nobody but yourself in a world that's doing its best to make you somebody else, is to fight the hardest battle you are ever going to fight. Never stop fighting.' EE Cummings.</span></h6>
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"> </span></h6>
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<a href="http://a8.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/250434_10150633224285525_870025524_18911731_1192484_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://a8.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/250434_10150633224285525_870025524_18911731_1192484_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I'm fed up with people thinking I should change. Be quieter. More refined. Go out and party more. Go out and party less. Be thinner. More confident. Less confident. Stop changing my hair colour. Be more ambitious. Stop being Ambitious, be content with now. </span></span></h6>
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> I've spent years trying to accept myself, who are you to say I should change? </span></span></h6>
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> I love the people in my life who accept me for who I am. Insecure, mildly flamboyant dresser, hair and accent chameleon, excitable with a good measure of decorum.</span></span></h6>
</div>Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00812711205985912850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-42040141015710714122011-06-08T14:05:00.000-07:002012-05-25T08:36:34.968-07:005 ways I don't fit in.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
1. I talk to animals. With farm animals I occasionaly try to warn them of their impending doom, but perhaps I should let ignorance be bliss.<br />
<br />
2. I hate wearing shoes.And not just after 2am and 2many glasses of rose Trips 2 sainsburys, in the office.....beee free my feet.<br />
<br />
3. I'll always choose to sit on the floor over a chair. Closer to the rats.<br />
<br />
4. I think 'Who are you?' is an acceptable way to greet people<br />
<br />
5. I don't care if people don't like the way I look, as long as I do:<br />
I liked my peroxide blonde that looked about as natural as a manatee on the high street.<br />
<br />
And I don't mind being a dark shade of orange. I feel exotic.<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://quieneslavoz.com.ar/pics/chars/eliza-thornberry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://quieneslavoz.com.ar/pics/chars/eliza-thornberry.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00812711205985912850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-10590428067052921582011-06-02T14:08:00.000-07:002011-06-02T14:11:11.172-07:00What I love most about Leeds.....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<br />
...The wide selection of buskers: bollywood-style guitar player, guy doing chris brown impersonations, guy playing the drums on trash, middle eastern trumpet quartet, and the man with the singing dog. something for everyone.<br />
Apparently Leeds is the only place in UK where you do not need a liscense to busk. Shrug.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQfiFrGoy6R5c_zbDGm2QXZvTcbdUlv9fhyphenhyphenl4rAkzgicKUWGu1PquQyKKFHpZBwDclaSLlzrNxR9OWbmopU4ZDXfWNSBr91PYazjFcUZcRkwNW5Fu8QWl9sC954nred-YVJAH7/s1600/busk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQfiFrGoy6R5c_zbDGm2QXZvTcbdUlv9fhyphenhyphenl4rAkzgicKUWGu1PquQyKKFHpZBwDclaSLlzrNxR9OWbmopU4ZDXfWNSBr91PYazjFcUZcRkwNW5Fu8QWl9sC954nred-YVJAH7/s320/busk.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<br />
Oh and Madge from neighbours, Chris Moyles and The Kasier Chiefs can be spotted (I served a Kaiser Chief at work once. Dunno which one)<br />
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</div>Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00812711205985912850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-47906031937416437242010-06-27T13:38:00.000-07:002012-05-25T08:34:05.955-07:008 reasons why dejected England fans should now be supporting Ghana with all their heart and flag.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
1. I was supporting Ghana from the start, and I am wise. Follow in my ways.<br />
<br />
<br />
2. They are the only country with a marked link to the UK left in the tournament: Former colony, LOVE the Queen. One might argue the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">British</span> weren't always <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">incredibly</span> nice to the country in colonial times, so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">It'd</span> be a nice peace <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">offering</span>, if a paltry one.<br />
<br />
3. It would really suck if we lost our world cup spirit in wake of the Ger-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">turmoil</span>. I'm not gonna lie, it bought a massive lump to my throat when I saw some Japanese guys crying at the end of the match, and kissing their <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">England</span> shirts goodbye (no, I dont get it either).<br />
<br />
4. Brits can learn a lot from their shameless self confidence. To quote Asamoah Gyan: "I asked God to make me the greatest striker in the world, and he did".<br />
<br />
<br />
5. Celebration at a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Ghanaian</span> foot ball game is awesome. Celebration after a Ghana game is awesome. To quote Marcel Desailly (ITV Commentator from Ghana)<br />
"I can imagine now, there will be dancing, beer, and singing, and there will be a goat just there *points* "<br />
<br />
6.They are in the quarter finals, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">i.e</span> still in the contest.<br />
<br />
<br />
7. THEY KNOW THEIR NATIONAL ANTHEM!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
8. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Entertainment factor:</span> Scraps, drama dives, praying on the pitch, yellow cards <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">agogo</span>, more gestures than P-diddy<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"></span> at a night club doing sign language. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
seriously....<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">wouldn't</span> you rather look like this...<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqWnYxGrq6Wvo1uEMLRnyN_226uWkm4cI1weUC1Eo5Q_u27DmRBGbIY1RMwXX162vhvRWZz-GzkDrF5F4-BT6j5h_BFgCRLr8Oz1EwO4LctVkLZpY1rr5dzGU1McW3_joyY5k/s1600/_48160829_img_2953.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487572134566820578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqWnYxGrq6Wvo1uEMLRnyN_226uWkm4cI1weUC1Eo5Q_u27DmRBGbIY1RMwXX162vhvRWZz-GzkDrF5F4-BT6j5h_BFgCRLr8Oz1EwO4LctVkLZpY1rr5dzGU1McW3_joyY5k/s320/_48160829_img_2953.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 216px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 173px;" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ_d5iCTLyhhl0HeA9myIscXB3ilWdtNvMDbCBQAjOlvt86I_X9Eoi1qsr318PJzuVC77sM-LZNeNGN9OsKA4J8VaqzkLXIqwrJ38DfgqaAPybkl-2JkLWULeoWuSThze-dV2H/s1600/SNV87798.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487571525795965442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ_d5iCTLyhhl0HeA9myIscXB3ilWdtNvMDbCBQAjOlvt86I_X9Eoi1qsr318PJzuVC77sM-LZNeNGN9OsKA4J8VaqzkLXIqwrJ38DfgqaAPybkl-2JkLWULeoWuSThze-dV2H/s320/SNV87798.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxxwGXRhSSc4uv01hxXCAH35-UOY81gysmN-3idzWbn_SaVPQBZmiFYAzUGUfNH2_EmO3Mvg1zuZciBkvtvk3PAgf-5fwo75wH1CxT2CdN9N_4x0HVUjeYU7hYxGcVqVLgoK4/s1600/_48160966_466.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487571507807677666" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxxwGXRhSSc4uv01hxXCAH35-UOY81gysmN-3idzWbn_SaVPQBZmiFYAzUGUfNH2_EmO3Mvg1zuZciBkvtvk3PAgf-5fwo75wH1CxT2CdN9N_4x0HVUjeYU7hYxGcVqVLgoK4/s320/_48160966_466.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 206px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<br />
than like this?<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0gYsHND9rmbTn5o8OYMzEcs8onVwltf6aTQnKw6EiwGVsm_KOmMWDoLJhfvzRLnVGxrP-uZl0nn72LEN2bGU3N7p08wuhgrMnKyEc-xyk5SbSXpwgv-JkY2OY6Kp3yg6Orr46/s1600/SNV87799.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487573276999122002" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0gYsHND9rmbTn5o8OYMzEcs8onVwltf6aTQnKw6EiwGVsm_KOmMWDoLJhfvzRLnVGxrP-uZl0nn72LEN2bGU3N7p08wuhgrMnKyEc-xyk5SbSXpwgv-JkY2OY6Kp3yg6Orr46/s320/SNV87799.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 278px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 371px;" /></a><br />
<br />
(incidentally my fave pic that I have taken so far this summer)</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-29572685286986551832010-06-14T19:28:00.000-07:002012-05-25T08:43:13.565-07:00I can only think of 2 reasons why life sucks right now....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
.....so everything must be going swimmingly on average. However:<br />
<br />
1)It's 3:28, and I'm sat up waiting for the police to come round on account of an attempted burglary at my dear abode about 15 minutes ago. The scary thing is I was due to move out tonight, and as my bedroom window was the port of call for their attempted entry, they might have just skulked in unnoticed. <br />
<br />
2)Yesterday, after frolicking in the park and playing basketball, I got on the bus. Whenever I get on a bus, It is guaranteed that the drunk,disheveled, mentally unstable bloke will accost me. Today, It went something like this:<br />
<br />
*Bloke sits next to me*<br />
"F****in hell, your nails are disgusting!! I <span style="font-style: italic;">CLEAN</span> mine."<br />
<br />
I would like to point out that my nails are not THAT dirty, and it must have taken some fairly close inspection for him to observe the feint, bohemian traces of dirt under my fingernails, which were only there due to park-frolicking and basketball twirling.<br />
<br />
Man.<br />
<br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-22149824591055145942010-06-05T15:26:00.000-07:002010-06-05T15:50:19.909-07:00Misfortunes: The International Years. Chapter 1: VIVE`BRASIL<meta name="Title" content=""> <meta name="Keywords" content=""> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"> <meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 2008"> <link rel="File-List" href="file://localhost/Users/user/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0clip_filelist.xml"> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;} span.shorttext {mso-style-name:short_text;} @page Section1 {size:595.0pt 842.0pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:35.4pt; mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Often in the process of working a 6 day week, I manage to find the time to daydream. Today, I found myself recounting previous travel mishaps, and wondering why I didn’t publicize them more. I know, everyone has funny, ‘This one time, in Africaaaaa, I like, drank water and it was SO not purified ’ stories. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Mine are more just a mockery of my general misfortune.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span lang="EN-US">Chapter one: Vivé Brasil</span></span></p><p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXzlwfaP26aWhovr6Bm2feZ1EgEL4xI005DmAbj3rLy7upAk-fXXMwPk5uWQDTW2LgrNIWVnoFiTHtNvW9SQcVNvIkrq1zJNIcZCfxA7a8I80-6gOvzRf1kf_xg8tNAMwrhRJa/s1600/b8.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 312px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXzlwfaP26aWhovr6Bm2feZ1EgEL4xI005DmAbj3rLy7upAk-fXXMwPk5uWQDTW2LgrNIWVnoFiTHtNvW9SQcVNvIkrq1zJNIcZCfxA7a8I80-6gOvzRf1kf_xg8tNAMwrhRJa/s320/b8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479424538139086178" border="0" /></a></p><p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span lang="EN-US">
<br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I’ve always had a problem of needing to pee whilst on public</span><span lang="EN-US"> transport. One time, in another very hot country, I almost didn’t go on a trip of a lifetime because I was so scared I’d pee myself on the 14 hour coach ride. Luckily there was one bathroom b</span><span lang="EN-US">reak on this occasion, and was sweating so much there was no need to pass water.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Ahem.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">On the incident in question, I was travel</span><span lang="EN-US">ing from Tra</span><span lang="EN-US">ncosco (a), to Ca</span><span lang="EN-US">raíva (b), a coach trip of around 6 hours. <span style=""> </span>Which, in somewhere the size of Brazil, is pretty much t</span><span lang="EN-US">he equivalent of popping over the road to buy some toilet roll.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrp7Qiy-sdmDgh8VLttZmVGxMfODVGsTTdLuGkATpR6RU4cWxisicZOU0t3bAzpz-xws9n3opDwJ-mHPt9eXJGBFj0ubKAg4CwKBssLJT2BLNlV43IVqv3jLAcZPVBXOCvCo0/s1600/+b7.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 442px; height: 454px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrp7Qiy-sdmDgh8VLttZmVGxMfODVGsTTdLuGkATpR6RU4cWxisicZOU0t3bAzpz-xws9n3opDwJ-mHPt9eXJGBFj0ubKAg4CwKBssLJT2BLNlV43IVqv3jLAcZPVBXOCvCo0/s320/+b7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479424290973135858" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Not hard to not need the toilet on a journey of such rel</span><span lang="EN-US">atively small proportions, or so one might think.<span style=""> </span>We nearly missed the bus, (due </span><span lang="EN-US">to m</span><span lang="EN-US">y obses</span><span lang="EN-US">sion </span><span lang="EN-US">with ‘cheesebread’ and just HAVING-TO-GET-SOME-FOR-THE-JOURNEY), but after runnin</span><span lang="EN-US">g along a dust track and som</span><span lang="EN-US">e Portugues expletives (from the driver, not us) we boarded.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">The problem with Cheesebread (bao de Quejo) is that
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">a) its addictive, probably on account of the salt</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"> b) due to the salt content it cann</span><span lang="EN-US">ot be c</span><span lang="EN-US">onsumed w</span><span lang="EN-US">ithout liqui</span><span lang="EN-US">d.<span style=""> </span>Seriously, that stuff is powerful.<span lang="EN-US"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgD37KONEtZjuXWyk2jXHAL4Ajneos08g3D1koncVKxeanvJ39DfOPqgWgmcFqw1LavrYbAf1Gx1qwHBIJo36haNrChaQ7bcebJqVFRsxchaOFLY7jbjoGT5XVuXcYIPLffjUD/s1600/brazil.jpg">
<br /></a></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSc1Vl9otaGBiyVIfq0JbojckRk_4KasuPPjLZFtDaeHIM6_ZbtD0sFU-fmQ9IHPTfnnY7tTBubXGEa2qaXXqBussSrKndk7FjKjdM7zZRMmZU69TEgxL1oTQeVe5OIxIfcaB/s1600/brazil.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSc1Vl9otaGBiyVIfq0JbojckRk_4KasuPPjLZFtDaeHIM6_ZbtD0sFU-fmQ9IHPTfnnY7tTBubXGEa2qaXXqBussSrKndk7FjKjdM7zZRMmZU69TEgxL1oTQeVe5OIxIfcaB/s320/brazil.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479424111700541554" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">After 3 weeks in Amazon land, I had become a bit cocky and convinced myself my bladder had the super-powers of your average giraffe.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">So alongside my cheesbread for the bus, I had purchased its very best liquid- friend, 2 cans of Cola tZero (no that’s not a mistype, portugues pronouncing).</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzc7743QplmSJeFabgvbpA-X9m2TSBDXP0lggXiQDB2V3ZaN3xbSrMZZHVIaY38SdDVNNmHp2ZFm8Q9iHeWUFqjGo8ZHOPjzasthTVgVaZB-d8nx44E1SztPhLm1UxiXOFm-yu/s1600/b3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 174px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzc7743QplmSJeFabgvbpA-X9m2TSBDXP0lggXiQDB2V3ZaN3xbSrMZZHVIaY38SdDVNNmHp2ZFm8Q9iHeWUFqjGo8ZHOPjzasthTVgVaZB-d8nx44E1SztPhLm1UxiXOFm-yu/s320/b3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479423874311264850" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">My friend Josie fell asleep, and people came on and off the bus, and we went though what I can only assume was rainforest with INSANE hairpin bends… as the</span><span lang="EN-US"> 'crow flies' the journey should have taken 25 mins.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span lang="EN-US"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Ux3tS9X4_vKzCsdelSAZhfg1L6MU-SYu-pXOucCotPb0eiX6Dro_oIZXztGATyqYHSOxUb45i0ZbNN5Y1C_YMaiGM-vU2kQjmS-Zb_PQ98bdlx7gwSZFUyJ5ihDGLjNoHFW2/s1600/b6.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Ux3tS9X4_vKzCsdelSAZhfg1L6MU-SYu-pXOucCotPb0eiX6Dro_oIZXztGATyqYHSOxUb45i0ZbNN5Y1C_YMaiGM-vU2kQjmS-Zb_PQ98bdlx7gwSZFUyJ5ihDGLjNoHFW2/s320/b6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479423612109363458" border="0" /></a></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Major crisis. After 2 hours, and 2 cans of Cola tZero, I u</span><span lang="EN-US">nsurprisingly need the toilet. I try to compose myself, with thoughts such as</span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style=""> </span>‘I am a strong, confident woman. </span><span lang="EN-US">My bladder does not control me.’</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style=""> </span>To no avail.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8yJC9eg0jzIBfKP5700Rwh_13kJCMnl1WGz2ntsv7AAaWWDNT4_9xpOqvKR1vWuzbsyET1_jjLYfTvYqa7jJSkD-O4DhbMmQrfeJkNkR71jQmlIYzBqtY6wWjOWSijB5_rDT/s1600/b45.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8yJC9eg0jzIBfKP5700Rwh_13kJCMnl1WGz2ntsv7AAaWWDNT4_9xpOqvKR1vWuzbsyET1_jjLYfTvYqa7jJSkD-O4DhbMmQrfeJkNkR71jQmlIYzBqtY6wWjOWSijB5_rDT/s320/b45.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479423124995753090" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I considered asking the bus driver to stop so I could pee, but having upset him earlier I was afraid he would either drive off and leave me, or watch and laugh.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Time passed.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I had no strength left. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">It had to be done.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLc_ov3bHiu1iz8BR_LFcW2gYFcQOm9s5QzcTUmcT5P7AqibqgnumBa9IRFUAVYtkXj47cQiuFRpKhtyCeIdjnpdb2ZKt8RQc2kIFs4X0Cpi2ywA9FyXIE-9hFYvoXc3GN2KBx/s1600/b4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLc_ov3bHiu1iz8BR_LFcW2gYFcQOm9s5QzcTUmcT5P7AqibqgnumBa9IRFUAVYtkXj47cQiuFRpKhtyCeIdjnpdb2ZKt8RQc2kIFs4X0Cpi2ywA9FyXIE-9hFYvoXc3GN2KBx/s320/b4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479422772310967922" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">The window was open….but there was no way I could bend that way/not be seen, plus, WHO does that?!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">My friend was still asleep and the people behind/in front were occupied/asleep, with the exception of one guy who was definitely AAE (alive, alert, enthusiastic). Then, in an epic must-be-divine intervention, his stop came up, and he departed.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">The plan? The plastic carrier bag that I had bought my cheesebread and Cola tZero in. Fortunately rural Brazil doesn’t seem to have cottoned on to the ‘putting holes in carrier bags so small children don’t suffocate’ extravaganza</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">So, without leaving my seat, waking my friend, drawing anyone’s attention, or, ahem, ‘spillage’, I did it.</span><span lang="EN-US">.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVR-6gJGPY1F25q9Kd5jlinfrhKlNSt-QfxenMH0W9_LlvBEm2qJe1BAtl5UDFPpsr-uhps-7IgFe42_cSJoC6zTssWc7EsWCw13FO3xadLwKDmg85ieKi7gtfk7GnaKzW-Yyp/s1600/Untitled+8.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 424px; height: 345px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVR-6gJGPY1F25q9Kd5jlinfrhKlNSt-QfxenMH0W9_LlvBEm2qJe1BAtl5UDFPpsr-uhps-7IgFe42_cSJoC6zTssWc7EsWCw13FO3xadLwKDmg85ieKi7gtfk7GnaKzW-Yyp/s320/Untitled+8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479422128842053394" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I’m sorry Brazil. I love you and your people and your crazy long bus journeys <span class="shorttext">sem banheiro</span>.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-33329506147863857142010-06-01T14:18:00.000-07:002012-05-25T08:24:46.164-07:00Ich muss mein Pferd verkaufen<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzqhyphenhyphenOKWIrFLuV55b2TFW8EE7ZN88sHitVuTeszocPw_idRXzatOWBFRkbKkXpzJ5FteWmOp4o-34HazxA3X0iwEDmUQfppq_nDm_fLo3HmU6YXWsoppd7TbklTUgHad16TXPX/s1600/phone1.jpg"><br /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />I always think ts polite, when calling a foreign country, to at least say "Good morning, Do you speak English please?' in the appropriate language. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">I work in a government travel agent, so am familiar with this phrase in many tongues.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">If you are an English speaker, in the UK, and an incoming phonecall began like so:</span><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"> '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Guten</span> Morgen, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ich</span> muss <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">mein</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Pferd</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">verkaufen</span>'</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"> or even " Доброе утро, вы продаете сыром?" </span> (<span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">that's</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Russian</span> by the way, which i don't try to speak, as I cant read the pictures, but I do begin <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Russian</span>-bound emails with "Доброе утро"</span>)<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">You'd be like.....<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 130%;">*nervous shuffle*<br />"....<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">errrr</span>, I don't think they're in the office today.</span><span style="font-size: 85%;"> or ever. please <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">don't</span> call back."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />However one day I got a bit too big for my boots, and decided to expand from the above, to 'Hello, Please may I speak with reservations?' upon a call to Paris......<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJ1R_7yrsYiprlj576tue3-SelSVZq0lpuv-SOidof68OdX8LiJVj-4KV6sF5avdojcjiLx9cxVdeOxwIMjUn-2Vlf1iJK2EOQIiBfvenrWdBKjhdI0My8sU0uNBOHD90E_rR/s1600/phone2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477930256914764034" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJ1R_7yrsYiprlj576tue3-SelSVZq0lpuv-SOidof68OdX8LiJVj-4KV6sF5avdojcjiLx9cxVdeOxwIMjUn-2Vlf1iJK2EOQIiBfvenrWdBKjhdI0My8sU0uNBOHD90E_rR/s320/phone2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></span></span></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCYwp6_r8szKLyZZ500Le6fzhHlLy1hLs57PHZkht7uIfDHPn5D3sewmYQJ19FSjTCqTcF1u2-taTCzPm2Z34LfIuQHyVenvpN7B1OF_wmLJvxYP3Er04vGmirwFM5UfvGkICr/s1600/phone3.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477930264930963890" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCYwp6_r8szKLyZZ500Le6fzhHlLy1hLs57PHZkht7uIfDHPn5D3sewmYQJ19FSjTCqTcF1u2-taTCzPm2Z34LfIuQHyVenvpN7B1OF_wmLJvxYP3Er04vGmirwFM5UfvGkICr/s320/phone3.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></span></span></span></span></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />He was Scottish.<br /><br />And I'm pretty sure I translated 'Reservations' wrongly.</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-4843764977421954572010-05-04T03:43:00.000-07:002012-05-25T08:44:08.834-07:00Most influential politcal Quotes.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"We can't possibly vote for the green party. their supporters have such untidy gardens"<br />
: My Granny<br />
<br />
<br />
"We wont tell you what to do" : Local UKIP manifesto.<br />
<br />
<br />
"It does not appear that Nick Clegg likes the Labour Party" : The Times<br />
<br />
"My love of hunting stags is eco-friendly,as it keeps the population at sustainable levels, venison is very tasty if it's properly hung" : UKIP leader Lord Pearson<br />
<br />
<a href="http://theora.com/images/stag.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://theora.com/images/stag.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 250px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 144px;" /></a><br />
<br />
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-12080545668159636672010-05-01T14:33:00.001-07:002010-05-01T15:00:29.799-07:00Third Leg...ey?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFfVQamG49EKn9AXN6HtOIndkkdxFyfwzTPN6aeIuOyosSo0jhoekKiOy8Fc3tkhBZPXcnCv-1wniGV0CnoHP2yd5wihSDK2pWItVuTyzxhjBefvu978gmmZ9YXFsjb8AANYeZ/s1600/Untitled+3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 360px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFfVQamG49EKn9AXN6HtOIndkkdxFyfwzTPN6aeIuOyosSo0jhoekKiOy8Fc3tkhBZPXcnCv-1wniGV0CnoHP2yd5wihSDK2pWItVuTyzxhjBefvu978gmmZ9YXFsjb8AANYeZ/s400/Untitled+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466418529587284002" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn2yGksxV99W7L2PWv9B9iHkuJpLlYdVaVvSNkvQqZp5KQRT35zMhwDFiwLNB0GBlJPG-MZwXJ-DVymXgrBZeA0NcfC_zoLOwsoo9HHCT6Y0KIAr6ac2KRLhIeJ0LL-L7FS_nK/s1600/Untitled+3.jpg"><br /></a><br />After seeing the above headline, and the picture of the nervous legs of Brown and Clegg (look closely)...<br /><br /><br />I could only assume this was the sequel to the televised debate:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkeWxosGt1d6E9v8-gklvSFYpUf2tmVLblof11BXtkBUDZcs-h_IuTpfdKdSCJqh0wvpQRa1WUVdLvLfy8V28XiChvMAgWVjnTdXSqAxdkdUxDnwfOtI8qvvbEHhyJNU2org4L/s1600/Untitled+4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkeWxosGt1d6E9v8-gklvSFYpUf2tmVLblof11BXtkBUDZcs-h_IuTpfdKdSCJqh0wvpQRa1WUVdLvLfy8V28XiChvMAgWVjnTdXSqAxdkdUxDnwfOtI8qvvbEHhyJNU2org4L/s400/Untitled+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466418695064000450" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />PS: Any likeness between Cameron and a Vampire in this pic is purely accidental.<br /><br />PPS: Yes, I could have made a very rude third leg joke. But I didn't. Respect n'stuff.<br /><br />xxxUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-27082234972799017892010-04-30T14:03:00.000-07:002010-05-04T04:36:29.330-07:00Poem for my blackberryDear Blackberry,<br /><br />I like you.<br />Sometimes when you ring,<br />I ignore you.<br />Please don't take it personally;<br />I just know its probably an email from Frank Rumbunkasisi.<br />I don't know who he is,<br />but I'd like it if you could filter him out.<br />I find it disconcerting that you're made by a company called RIM,<br />But I'll let you off,<br />as you help look occupied in awkward situations,<br />and sometimes make me look professional,<br />at least that would be the case,<br />If I'd brushed my hair today.<br />Please try and make your battery last a bit longer.<br /><br />The End.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-16588800124734268622010-04-24T07:01:00.000-07:002010-04-24T08:06:05.207-07:00PUBLIC TRANSPORT IS DANGEROUSSo, on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Tuesday</span>, I left my friends house about 10pm, and went to get the bus. At the bus stop i bumped into my friend <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Johnny</span>, which was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">of</span> course lovely, but was also really fortunate for me, for reasons below.<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Johnny</span> and I had a bit of banter about the Election, and then boarded the bus.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEW9AmYX8LUnKWLi0EvwS3HgnzOp3RX8PeIoOF_L_jFLD3EDbNsViv8vTThXTYissvNbHSfDya-5go2WFB98gC2Ibnepe7Z1eUOznZDkFQkrjJHqxz31oqdFqWgpZo9iiTZyHJ/s1600/jonny.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEW9AmYX8LUnKWLi0EvwS3HgnzOp3RX8PeIoOF_L_jFLD3EDbNsViv8vTThXTYissvNbHSfDya-5go2WFB98gC2Ibnepe7Z1eUOznZDkFQkrjJHqxz31oqdFqWgpZo9iiTZyHJ/s320/jonny.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463718468666453938" border="0" /></a><br />Until the on the near <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">deserted</span> bus, a woman threw herself on the floor, and started fitting, banging her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">head</span> and trying to choke herself.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Jonny</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">authoritatively</span>, instructed the bus to stop, the bus driver whips out his phone and calls an ambulance, or so we think.<br /><br />Actually, he was calling the bus depot to let them know he was running late.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyr7f_tttZ99tWJp618uX69eKxhZKnG5DtzI3lm-Nlq6VTW6_GGTJnZIQHFlNeYrs4ptTsDo3db9f2omY36YMREuJWxKz0pwgMeF8rqD0YHmB3yJUqa2VlJqvjNZxbSM1IQHEx/s1600/bus.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyr7f_tttZ99tWJp618uX69eKxhZKnG5DtzI3lm-Nlq6VTW6_GGTJnZIQHFlNeYrs4ptTsDo3db9f2omY36YMREuJWxKz0pwgMeF8rqD0YHmB3yJUqa2VlJqvjNZxbSM1IQHEx/s320/bus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463718140988193810" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />So, My blackberry got to call 999 for the first time in its life. I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">didn't</span> actually make the call, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Johnny</span> did.<br /><br />I can't deal with that kind of pressure. I dread to think how a 4 month old piece of plastic felt.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBctF19vPSCOnFjAcpJmngfJo_kNyGZTlkJmm1_75HbHlnHsj4Z1nrakD7LEDFZJi-s3_po6DjbRqXCUULkKsivkCIZWt7CLvH043oVEbGK68RgDAjQWKAsImucvFU-pcT8WBs/s1600/blackberry.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBctF19vPSCOnFjAcpJmngfJo_kNyGZTlkJmm1_75HbHlnHsj4Z1nrakD7LEDFZJi-s3_po6DjbRqXCUULkKsivkCIZWt7CLvH043oVEbGK68RgDAjQWKAsImucvFU-pcT8WBs/s320/blackberry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463719102578425314" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Johnny</span> spent 10 minutes trying to explain where we were (My thoughts.....For <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">goodnesssake</span> were a massive bus pulled over on a hill, its not that hard!) whilst I tried to pad the bars the woman was banging her head on and stop her trying to choke herself. She was really strong and I couldn't move her hand, so I just made sure she was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">still</span> breathing, whilst trying to reassure her. I actually <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">surprised</span> myself, normally in those situations I'm a complete <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">awkward</span> idiot, but I imagine from a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Birdseye</span> view I could have been on a cool medical drama like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">House</span>. Or maybe something more low-budget, like Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman.<br /><br />So, then the ambulance mooches up, ambulance men walk on....<br /><br />'Oh, hi Phyllis'<br />Apparently this woman throws fake fits all the time for attention.<br /><br />It was quite scary seeing her be strapped down and wheeled off, and really really sad.<br /><br />Cue *somber mood for rest of journey*<br />The thing I found most sad about it was how troubled one must be to let yourself be patronised like that.<br /><br />On <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Wednesday</span> I started using my bike, far safer. I think.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH7JFGOssp3KX_DPodnCG24TAg2Pzen7UTxmHJ4Pvr-Wu5In9csIM6bo_7Q7Xg58_rQZSh8dG8jvcY7OY7PvV9wOu1WfNBlyqH35neWOFvptEwwv90Yo7NH_uGRiZ90EqTfACG/s1600/bike.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH7JFGOssp3KX_DPodnCG24TAg2Pzen7UTxmHJ4Pvr-Wu5In9csIM6bo_7Q7Xg58_rQZSh8dG8jvcY7OY7PvV9wOu1WfNBlyqH35neWOFvptEwwv90Yo7NH_uGRiZ90EqTfACG/s320/bike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463718688615758994" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-73052272067460514692010-04-14T15:27:00.000-07:002012-05-25T08:45:20.415-07:00Is this a good idea?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So, because my blog doesn't have a particular theme, I end up rambling about my life and views on the world. Which may be entertaining for some, who knows.<br />
But due to the fact I am not anonymous in the blogosphere, I feel as though I must severely edit what I write, because I may ruffle someones feathers.<br />
<br />
I would never purposely insult ANYONE.<br />
<br />
Maybe if I want to be honest I should keep it to a diary. But I do love to write, and get feedback.<br />
<br />
Hm.<br />
<br />
NB: This was written in relation to a post I have since deleted. Nothing exsisting on here is THAT contaversial. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-13654164012582940742010-04-11T04:58:00.000-07:002012-05-25T08:54:00.354-07:00What do you DO?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This question haunts me for many reasons. Most of the below conversations are factual, the internal monologue that I have given other people are not, it just goes to emphasises my neurotic nature.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">Circa 2008-..Me= age 20.</span><br />
<br />
*conversation dries up*<span style="font-weight: bold;">'so....are you a student?'</span><br />
Me: <span style="font-weight: bold;">"Yep, I study worldwide famine solutions (read: International development)"</span><br />
<br />
'<span style="font-weight: bold;">What year?'</span><br />
<br />
Me:<span style="font-weight: bold;"> 'First year'</span><br />
<br />
This then either results in said person saying....<br />
a) <span style="font-weight: bold;">"Oh, i would have thought you were older than a first year"</span><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>(subsequently making me think 'DAMMIT! ARE YOU SAYING I CAN'T PASS FOR 18??)<br />
<br />
b) <span style="font-weight: bold;">"oh, right."</span><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>(making me think WHAT THE HELL? THEY THINK I'M 18? AM I THAT IMMATURE?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<br />
Circa 2010.....Me age 21 3\4<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">"So....</span>youre<span style="font-weight: bold;"> a student then?"</span> (which subsequently makes me think....Why would you assume I'M A STUDENT? is it because I look like I don't shower. Because I do. So there.)<br />
<br />
Me: <span style="font-weight: bold;">"No...I...er...work ...er...part time in an art shop'</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">"Oh so you have kids then?" </span>(because obcviously thats the only reason for part time working, nothing to do with the jobs vortex that surrounds Leeds.......<br />
I look like Ive had kids? Is it my baby bump? because that's the product of too much wine.)<br />
<br />
Me: <span style="font-weight: bold;">"er, No"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">"But </span>youre<span style="font-weight: bold;"> married, right?"</span> (******* IMPORTANT NOTE ...most Christians believe in, aside from the bible, the doctrine that you must marry once you are no longer a student.)<br />
<br />
<br />
Me:<span style="font-weight: bold;"> "er, No...I was engaged but not anymore"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">*</span>AWKWARD<span style="font-weight: bold;"> SILENCE* </span>(In which i laugh heartily in my head for purposely making the other person feel guilty.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
How to bring my age related complex into balance? Slather on the anti-wrinkle cream, pour vodka on my cornflakes...but also get myself a subscription to The Peoples Friend and a bag of werthers original for a dose of maturity.<br />
<br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-15040341253420922082010-04-08T02:36:00.001-07:002010-04-08T02:36:49.958-07:00Google fail."We found no matches for "mke poverty histry" . Below are results for "mike" "Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-13327144217241725102010-04-07T14:49:00.000-07:002010-04-07T14:53:33.129-07:00BEEE PREPAREEEEEEDIt's basically the same picture.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.lionking.org/%7Etlkpride/images/cardscans/lkcs019.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 401px; height: 274px;" src="http://www.lionking.org/%7Etlkpride/images/cardscans/lkcs019.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCkGM4dF9s1DfqNCk9I7_fSt7ZEPyxp2Kh34atqNEXSZ7HVunHNpMf2bqfPjHlksNVgoR8tX5LGG0oE6l-3kBomTx635qOQC4Y9cxQeankclHXhtrRsec9aMWS11dqqpB1ETeO/s1600/GEDC0423.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 351px; height: 263px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCkGM4dF9s1DfqNCk9I7_fSt7ZEPyxp2Kh34atqNEXSZ7HVunHNpMf2bqfPjHlksNVgoR8tX5LGG0oE6l-3kBomTx635qOQC4Y9cxQeankclHXhtrRsec9aMWS11dqqpB1ETeO/s320/GEDC0423.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457516487042183138" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-76398831794666643472010-04-05T10:51:00.000-07:002012-05-25T08:54:41.482-07:00I heart everyone<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A hotbed topic, according to the <a href="http://www.dailystar.co.uk/home/">D</a><a href="http://www.dailystar.co.uk/home/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">aily</span> Star</a>*<br />
Immigration. Whats the big deal? The daily star says '<span style="font-weight: bold;">THIS COUNTRY IS FULL</span>' (In bold lettering, crap, they must mean business)<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuYvsXE9z4N7i9aGCqoHia6MHQHDI0QtT0LDa130dlIyv9hJsge0Vcd5wIvb_5sG9mzMXgtmqdV_wo5utBaOFz1G9VEaVJ-h3ciDW-LThYvOrumJLYlkfBWCCf93W65KpjZV2X/s1600/england.png"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456717231954914482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuYvsXE9z4N7i9aGCqoHia6MHQHDI0QtT0LDa130dlIyv9hJsge0Vcd5wIvb_5sG9mzMXgtmqdV_wo5utBaOFz1G9VEaVJ-h3ciDW-LThYvOrumJLYlkfBWCCf93W65KpjZV2X/s400/england.png" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 411px;" /></a><br />
Seriously. Go for a drive in the country.Not only will it do you good to get away from drinking <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Stella</span> and wishing you were Peter <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Andre</span>, but you will realise that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">there's</span> plenty of space!<br />
<br />
Now, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">obvious</span>ly, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">I'm</span> not saying it'd be good for the whole of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">England</span> to become some kind of battery farm.<br />
<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Actually</span>, I plan on emigrating as soon as <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">I'm</span> qualified to do anything so I don't care.<br />
<br />
But, when considering that, apparently, the non <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">English</span> speaking world considers the English to be pill popping, obese <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">weirdos</span> with an unhealthy <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">obsession</span> with our ex- prime minister (please see previous post, or click <a href="http://everythingtonoone.blogspot.com/2009_06_01_archive.html">here </a>), i think we should take it as a compliment, that a few, educated, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">probably</span> more attractive than us, enterprising people take it upon themselves to get to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">England</span> by any means possible.<br />
<br />
The length some people go to to get here is heartbreaking, and the fact that some people get kicked out is also heartbreaking. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">I'm</span> sure I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">don't</span> need to comment on the dodgy boats, drug smuggling, trading in your life savings and goat farms that people are prepared to go through. I think the effort deserves a reward.<br />
<br />
My boss thinks that it should become like a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">game show</span>....'Overcome Sharks, hurricanes, malnutrition, scurvy and CUSTOMS...and win a lifetimes supply of ENGLAND!!!!!!<br />
<br />
Ill leave you to decide whether <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">that's</span> funny or immoral.<br />
<br />
I should probably point out that all my best friends are foreign, and probably <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">wouldn't</span> have been able to live in England if the daily star had had their way.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuxKpnVYiBkpKYQ8TcZWJ7CAMcMAUnIl3DlHTFQsEsZvWSUdqFV_D87Dq45gKfJtZutoVNiL3_-pp6uFjcHM3z7l3PXI9hHjYR3HVs6J-Gwb8ai7OV1QVCqvVKSg1M-TH5z1wX/s1600/iloveimmigrants.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456725667071342322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuxKpnVYiBkpKYQ8TcZWJ7CAMcMAUnIl3DlHTFQsEsZvWSUdqFV_D87Dq45gKfJtZutoVNiL3_-pp6uFjcHM3z7l3PXI9hHjYR3HVs6J-Gwb8ai7OV1QVCqvVKSg1M-TH5z1wX/s400/iloveimmigrants.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 575px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 432px;" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-9829310730219402132009-06-04T10:19:00.000-07:002010-04-05T11:50:51.717-07:00If eurovision isnt enough proof about what other countries think of us....I am sitting in the Language library doing my german homework.(Library, homework, what?????) & listening to a Portuguese news report.<br /><br />The girl next to me is obviously studying English as a foreign language (i deduced this from the nature of her textbooks). I just looked at her computer screen, and and it says her English exam conversation topics are:<br /><br />-Blairs Legacy<br /><br />-Drugs in sport<br /><br />-Obesity.<br /><br />Wow.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1KHAybW3LJA_f5MNR5ZKFgXx-W3gSsbe85zYdGzK-ZkJMCIqsl8c3L-yCZYf97W1GdB0Y1D-gqqHAlP9hFYHLQBur8uewyhyEVy15PuyPNkbNyNjEUoWZB6vNK0wsUziACTQr/s1600/awesomepills.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1KHAybW3LJA_f5MNR5ZKFgXx-W3gSsbe85zYdGzK-ZkJMCIqsl8c3L-yCZYf97W1GdB0Y1D-gqqHAlP9hFYHLQBur8uewyhyEVy15PuyPNkbNyNjEUoWZB6vNK0wsUziACTQr/s320/awesomepills.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456711324186496466" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />God save the queen.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-60459055110500258242009-05-05T10:26:00.000-07:002010-04-05T10:34:45.539-07:00Spot the phantom<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaHm7UPSeSjv5P1JRH2qHXN6-bHZIufFJVQcC9JaTcqFY0hj070nqaj6ski88iHhUN-Ftl-fPlq1kkMh2GQn6vEa1v2ZZp-MaeGKaQDblaZrOd2PZ5DoKuVpVDWnQD4AWrPVcn/s1600/phantom.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaHm7UPSeSjv5P1JRH2qHXN6-bHZIufFJVQcC9JaTcqFY0hj070nqaj6ski88iHhUN-Ftl-fPlq1kkMh2GQn6vEa1v2ZZp-MaeGKaQDblaZrOd2PZ5DoKuVpVDWnQD4AWrPVcn/s320/phantom.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456706747051151490" /></a><br /><br /><br />The Phantom is once again with us. In case a few of you didn't know the extent of the hauntings of our flat, a phantom appears in our shower now and again. The shower turns itself on BUTTT not just on by the pully thing, in fact the tap turns aswell. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br />In which, normally I scream and my flatmate runs to scare it off HOWEVER, this time Hannah came across the new sensation of the phantom. Except, this time it "banged" hmmmm. Has the phantom developed human mannerisms? I hope not. It'll be opening doors and creating a facebook account next.<br /><br /><br /><br />Now we are laughing at ourselves to be so ridic as to think a phantom would have nowhere better to be.Anyways, life has hit an all time low. Hannah just ate mould because she thought something had 'dropped' in her pesto. What a woman.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-12667130682311337642009-03-03T10:09:00.000-08:002012-05-25T07:55:59.935-07:00I spend most of my day in a duvet.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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</style> <span lang="EN-US"> I live with 4, wonderful female creatures, in a flat that looks like we are in some kind of witness protection program (boarded up doors and windows on account of our neighbors penchant for snowballs).</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US">Once a beautiful time we were all single ladies of free lancing passion and pleasure, but after 2 weeks of this bliss we seem to have all been taken agag! </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"> Anyways, so I would like to reiterate the point that the single ladies life has not left the flat. I think that we all imagine oursleves to be in a sex and the city episode, this is not the case.
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<span lang="EN-US">We merely just prance about, warn each other when we are going to the toilet-shower-moving-eating-boiling the kettle or logging into facebook.</span></div>
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-16119054689807587332009-02-19T05:52:00.001-08:002009-02-19T05:52:32.296-08:00Sweet.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2009/02/19/article-1148885-0394A26C000005DC-281_468x367.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 468px; height: 367px;" src="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2009/02/19/article-1148885-0394A26C000005DC-281_468x367.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-61842739651566338592009-01-21T04:40:00.000-08:002012-05-25T07:54:43.506-07:00Baby hope and freedom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Here are the hillariously diferent styles in which the UK news service that was broadcasting the event (BBC) and the US channel (CNN) commentated on the election.<br />
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CNN: Obama is changing our lives today! He will be sworn in, and then Baby hope and baby freedom wil be born, God bless America!<br />
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BBC: Obama will be sworn in.....and then he’ll have some lunch.<br />
(later) Joe Biden is not a short man, but Michelle Obama is of similar height....quite a tall lady.<br />
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Ha. It reminds me of when i was in Ghana and the lovely American people I lived with said living with british people was more of a culture shock than being in Africa!<br />
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So many individuals have inspired so much hate and inequality in our world. I really hope, and in spite of the pessimists, believe Obama can be the true opposite to this.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-69822478068023670232009-01-04T10:54:00.000-08:002009-01-04T10:55:18.606-08:00The End.?! <a href="http://www.the-end.com/">?!?!?!?!?</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-59912353824931009362009-01-03T10:07:00.000-08:002009-01-03T10:34:32.392-08:00Perfect New Years ResolutionsOk so 3 days into 2009 I feel obliged to comment on 2008. Some of it has been good,developing wonderful friendships, starting Uni, and lots of foreign wanderings, America, Spain, Greece, South Africa and Mozambique at the end being definite highlights. Some of its been not so great, but instead of misering on about that...<br /><br />...I look forward to 2009....and I think I'm happier than I have ever been, mostly because I've almost accepted I'm never going to be the perfect person that I think that others think I should be. Perfectionism is a tricky subject, its a case of finding the balance between being the best you can be, and cutting yourself a bit of slack sometimes when it is needed.<br />New years resolutions were probably made 3 days ago, and many of them may have fallen by the wayside already. Mine personally haven't, as I've chosen gradual ones, eg: Take up yoga, try and get in some kind of routine, Learn Portuguese and eat properly. Also maybe another reason they haven't yet failed is that they are about <em>doing</em> things, not about <em>not doing</em> things (eg: I wont smoke, I wont eat cheese, I wont terrorise auntie Margaret's cat).<br />I could be said if we set too high standards for ourselves we are just setting ourselves up for failure, and subsequently guilt. <br />(eg: 'I will go for a run 3 times a day'. You only manage 2 times on Friday January the 2nd so you think 'Stuff it, I cant even stick to it until January the 2nd, what hope have I ever got of achieving anything?)<br /><br />A good example within this theme is Bill Gates. I'm sure many of you have your gripes with Microsoft. Microsoft has its fair share of critique as being a flawed program. for example, a new version of MS Word was released in 2008, and I'm sure many would say it's still not perfect. But It's probably just as well for Mr. Gates that he didn't wait until it was perfect to release it: People are still buying it, imperfections and all: If he had waited till he got it perfect, it would not yet be on sale and he would not have billions of dollars to show for his work. Though Imperfect, It was arguably the best it could be at that point in time, and has helped countless people.....er write essays and make birthday cards.<br /><br />Also, apparently, most drum sounds on music today are made by drummachines. (clearly the world ran out of attractive male heartbreaking drummers)<br />The problem is that drum machines are musically 'perfect'. That’s why the machines have a setting that tries to recreate human error. Theres a sticker around, popular with drummers, that says 'Drum Machines Have No Soul' The imperfections in the sound give the music soul and our imperfections as people give us soul to,o and ultimately make us the strange, creative beings we are.<br /><br />So aim for the best, but don't beat yourself up if you fail, its not gonna help yourself or anyone if you punish yourself with guilt, or abandon your dreams by giving up. In the words of Ashanti 'Pick yourself up and try again'. And in the words of my friend Helen 'Aim for the Moon, for if you miss you will be among the stars.<br /><br />HAPPY new year!!!! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17281269.post-57712191043540364552008-12-30T01:12:00.000-08:002008-12-30T01:21:29.742-08:00The rediscovery of the flute in a flooded Maputo bar.So on my last night in Mozabique we went to a bar. I use that term loosely. It was more of a large hut, that was incredibly flooded (much like the living room at my friends apartment but thats another story) with a small stage. After waiting an hour for a CApirinia (nice coktail, brazil style, google it), we convinced the guy to put an extra shot of sugar cane alcohol in it to compensate for our wait. Bad idea.<br /><br />I'm not sure if it was the heat or the strength of the cocktail, but one drink certainly rendered me slightly intoxicated. Me and Julia were chatting to many Mozambiquan men, who, of course, are all famous musicians and have all been to London to 'Get to know big ben' <br /><br />I then mention to one man (Don? I personally thought this name was surprisinlgy english) that I used to play the flute. So he proceeds to tell the guy leading the funk band that are playing on stage this, and lo and behold a flute was produced.<br /><br />So I go up on stage, and according to popular consesus, rock this flute (I must point out it was a VERY nice flute, I can take no creidt for the sound).<br />I then proceed to step off the stage, and due to me forgetting the floor is underwater, fall flat on my butt and scrape up my hands. Classy. I think i made it look like part of the act.....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3